The Last Stage of History
by wickedmetalviking1990
Summary: For many, the events at the foot of the Tower of Remembrance marked the end of their adventures. See what happened to our friends who did not go forth again to seek the Ultimate Sword? Set after SCIV, rated T, focusing on characters who didn't appear in SCV and exploring possible explanations to their individual fates.
1. Ashes of Armageddon

**(AN: A few days ago, my brother and I were talking about _Soul Calibur V_ and how we've missed all the characters who were cut out of it. That led to a discussion of where the characters from _SCIV_ might have ended up after Siegfried's victory over Nightmare, which is the basis of this idea. [Don't worry, once _The Land_ is finished, I will get _Witch's Soul_ up as promised. Hopefully that fares better than its predecessor.])  
**

**(So here we are, at the last stage of history...)  
**

* * *

**Ashes of Armageddon**

_1591_

When the smoke cleared, only one was still left standing. The Sword of Heroes was victorious. All others gathered about in a loose circle, looking on from various distances. What many had wished and hoped for was now a reality: the Evil Sword was defeated, the power of Soul Edge was vanquished.

In a certain place along the tortured land, still burning with molten rock, a young man and a young woman looked from afar at what had happened at the foot of the giant Tower. The young man was very annoyed at what he saw, aiming frustrated kicks at the rocks and dust nearby. The woman looked on at sight of Armageddon, then turned back to her companion.

"It's better this way," she said to him.

"How can you say that?" the young man returned. "The Sword's gone. Without it, our people don't stand a chance!"

"Yun-seong, please," the woman replied. "You shouldn't say things like that."

"Why not?" he returned. "Without Soul Edge, what chance do we have against a unified Japanese enemy?" He groaned in frustration, then aimed a kick at a rock lying innocently upon the ground.

The young woman sighed in frustration, burying her face in the palm of her hand. He wasn't there to make a difference, and what had happened in the valley below was hardly what he would have wanted. She, on the other hand, was much more pleased with what had happened.

Just then, she heard footsteps behind her: quiet sandals shuffling against the sand. She spun around, leveling her _wol-do_ at the newcomer. With a smile, she realized that the newcomer was no enemy, but the little girl who had followed her for quite some time.

"Sorry, Talim," she apologized. "I suppose I'm a bit jumpy." The little girl nodded, then looked at Yun-seong, who was still venting his rage by kicking at the rocks.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked.

"Soul Edge was destroyed," the older one replied. "It was what he was after."

"Doesn't he know..."

"I tried to tell him," she sighed. "But he wouldn't listen."

"I understand," Talim nodded. "It can be hard for someone to give up their last hope, even if it might be more harmful to pursue it than to let it go."

"Maybe you should talk to him," she nodded towards Yun-seong. "Get him to see reason."

"I will try," Talim agreed, then turned to Yun-seong. "Please, try to understand..."

"Understand what?" he bit back. "It's hopeless! Our only hope was destroyed by that knight! It should have gone to us, to defend my people from..."

"Is it wise to put so much faith," Talim replied. "In something so powerful? Do you have such little trust in the strength of your own people?"

Yun-seong sighed, sitting on the ground and staring off into the east, where the darkness of night was already gathering.

"Future seems pretty bleak," he admitted.

"Only if you let it, Yun-seong," Talim returned. "You must turn away from this power. It would only have destroyed you, just as it would have destroyed the spirits of nature."

Yun-seong sighed, but said nothing. Talim then turned back to the taller, older woman.

"I've done what I can, Seong Mi-na," she said. "The rest is up to him."

In the distance, there was a bright flash and a blue light emanating from the valley below. They covered their faces as they looked out at the strange light, which was gone mere moments after it had appeared.

"What the hell was that?" Seong Mi-na asked.

"The world," Talim said fearfully. "It is tearing apart. I can hear the cry of the wind!" She collapsed to her knees, her hands over her ears.

"Really?" a third voice asked. Yun-seong had seen the flash and now joined them, wondering if he could find out what was going on. "Everything seems okay."

"Talim, are you okay?" Seong Mi-na asked, kneeling at her young friend's side.

"No, it's gone now," Talim breathed a sigh of relief. "It was only for a moment, but what power!"

"Well, what was it?" Yun-seong asked.

"Hopefully the last of the Evil Seed," Talim returned. She stood up, then turned her gaze eastward, eyes closed. "Yes, the wind is changing. It is time to go home."

She set off from the hill where they stood, with Seong Mi-na following on behind and Yun-seong reluctantly taking up the rear. As they were making their way down the hill, a sudden, inhuman screech was heard, followed by hasty shouting and muttering in a language that they did not know.

"Stand your guard," Seong Mi-na said to the others. Yun-seong drew his sword, Talim gripped her bladed tonfas and Seong Mi-na leveled her _wol-do_ towards where the screech came from. A tall figure clad in black was standing there, with eyes that burned like fire.

"Who are you?" she shouted at the spectral image. "_What_ are you?"

The figure paid no attention to the three Korean warriors. It turned its shrouded head this way and that, calling out into the gathering darkness for someone.

"Amy, _ma chérie!_" the dark figure cried out. "_Où es-tu? R__eviens!_"

"What the...?" Yun-seong exclaimed. He then turned to Seong Mi-na. "Do you know what he's saying?"

Seong Mi-na approached, weapon still in hand, and addressed the dark-clad figure. Being the oldest of their party and having traveled to Europe before, she had picked up a little of the languages of Europe. Maybe, just maybe...

"_Hallo?_" she began, using German, the language of the Azure Knight. But the figure gave no response. "Uh, _hola_?"

Fortunately for her, the dark-clad figure had spent his wealthy youth in foreign parts, and he knew Catalan rather well.

"_Es parla Català?_" he returned.

"Uh_, sí_," Seong Mi-na replied. "_Perdoneu, que li estan demanant?_"

"_L__a meva estimada_ Amy," was his answer. "_Que es perd_!"

"Uh, what did he say?" Yun-seong interjected.

"_En garde!_" the dark figure shouted, drawing a sword and turning the point in the young Korean's direction.

"He's looking for someone," Seong Mi-na replied, then turned back to the dark figure. "_No podem ajudar a, senyor. Ens disculpem._" Without another word, the dark figure swept past them, calling out for "Amy" as he went.

"Must be something important," Yun-seong said.

"There's something dreadfully wrong with him," Talim stated. "The winds about him felt so..._tormented_. I don't even know if he's human anymore."

"There's only one wind that I care about," Yun-seong haughtily replied. "And that's the one that gets us back home as soon as possible."

* * *

**(AN: How was that? The name for the chapter came from the penultimate chapter of _Siegfried_, and it felt appropriate. Like with _Siegfried_, I'm trying to make this story feel more realistic, and went out of my way with the obvious language barrier between our Asian friends and the French Raphael [because who else would be "Chasing Amy"? lol, don't sue me, Kevin Smith]. My Catalan is atrocious, of course, because I used Google Translate. Should have just stuck with my instincts and used Spanish, but Raphael probably spoke Catalan, learned it from his Spanish dancing/fencing instructors or something.)**

**(How are the characters so far? In character and everything? Should Talim be talking about the wind more often? [lol])  
**


	2. The Lotus and the Broken

**(AN: Thank you for all the lovely reviews. No, _ThalieXVII_, I don't mind you correcting my French. Better it sound as authentic as possible, _oui_?)  
**

**(This story, like _Remember the Fallen_, is an attempt at a new story-telling device: non-linear plot, similar to that used in Quentin Tarantino's films. Stay on the look-out for things that are similar in each chapter.)  
**

* * *

**The Lotus and the Broken**

It would be a long road from Europe back to the Ming Empire: down to Constantinople, then a boat-ride to Antioch on the northern borders of the Holy Land, before a long and arduous ride across the Arabian desert and into their homeland, following the Silk Road. But Kilik had made this journey four times in his life: once when he and his friends first stopped the power of the Evil Sword, again for his second journey to destroy Soul Edge, a third time to find that odd little girl Chai Xianghua, and this fourth and final time to leave her behind and destroy both swords.

Yes, the Holy Warrior he had once been was gone now. Rejecting the wisdom of the Edge Master, he began to think within himself that the Spirit Sword was a force of evil, the same as Soul Edge, and that it should be destroyed as well. Furthermore, though he had tolerated her presence so far, Xianghua was a constant reminder of what he had done. It was not through any fault of her own, just that face of hers: it was like...like...

_No_, he mused. _Better to be gone from her for ever than to face what I've done._

They were staying at a _han_ in Constantinople, resting up from their journeys. The Okinawan pirate did not follow them back, he was going back to his home by sea. That left Kilik alone with that odd little girl in a strange world among strange tongues. Therefore, Kilik kept to himself in his room in deep meditation. It was all he could do to center himself in this time of great trouble.

For, certainly, the essence of Soul Edge was weakened, but the Spirit Sword was still alive.

* * *

In the courtyard of the _han_, little Chai Xianghua was ambling about. Kilik wanted his privacy when he meditated, and she wanted to do anything she could to please him. Though recently, she noted, what 'pleased' Kilik saw the two of them separated, and this displeased her greatly. Ever since she began tagging along with him, since before Ostrheinsburg four years ago, she found herself attached to this young Ling-Sheng Su monk. She would do anything for him, and yet it seemed that he was slowly slipping away from her grasp.

"It isn't wise for a young woman to wander about Istanbul alone so close to nightfall," a voice echoed at her.

Xianghua turned about, craning her little neck to peek over the tall, hooded and veiled figures that filled the courtyard of the _han_. One figure seemed to stand out more than the rest, very tall and clad all in white as if he were a mourner.

"You!" she pointed to the man. "You-you're the one! The one that attacked us! You almost killed him!"

"It was necessary," the deep-voiced man said, as he slowly approached Xianghua. "The two swords could not be destroyed."

"Well, you failed!" she returned. "Kilik's alive, and Soul Edge has been destroyed."

The enigmatic figure laughed. "Destroyed? Don't be so naive."

"What do you know?" she angrily demanded. "Tell me!"

"What I know..." the tall man said slowly. "...is that your friend is in danger."

Any other thoughts vanished from Xianghua's head, and she took off across the courtyard of the _han_, knocking into a tall European woman in Japanese clothing. She apologized amidst a sea of insults in Japanese and English, then took off without looking back. She couldn't hesitate, not when Kilik was in danger! Up the stairs she went, back to their room, where she found Kilik still in his meditative stance.

"No, wait," he spoke to no one in particular, in a voice such as one that was coming out of a dream. "Don't leave! I...I can help you!"

"Kilik, what's wrong?"

Hearing her voice again, Kilik reluctantly returned to the land of the living, and sighed as he knew, without looking, who was behind him.

"Why do you think something's wrong?"

"I..." she paused. What to say? Tell him about that white-robed man and his cryptic warnings? She shook her head, then started concentrating intently on a spot of the brick floor. "Womanly intuition, I guess."

"A girl's, you mean," he replied. "And you were wrong. Everything's perfectly fine."

"Kilik, wait..."

"We have one more task to complete," Kilik said, then reached up around his neck and removed the blue, glowing pendant. Xianghua gasped. "I can control it." he reassured her. He held up the pendant, one of the few remaining pieces of the Dvapara-Yuga in the world. After the coming of the Evil Seed, Kilik had needed the whole Dvapara-Yuga to keep his sanity after the Ling-Sheng-Su Temple had been infested with the malignant presence of the Evil Seed. After Ostrheinsburg, the Dvapara-Yuga was shattered, leaving only these few pieces left, called the Holy Stones. It seemed they had the power to cure the infestation of the Evil Seed and Soul Edge's malignant influence wherever present.

Kilik let the pendant fall to the ground, then stepped on it with his boot.

"Kilik!" Xianghua exclaimed. "What are you..."

"We were wrong about the Spirit Sword," he told her. "It's evil, just another powerful entity trying to lord its influence over humans."

"What? I-I can't believe that! It-The Dvapara-Yuga! It kept you safe from the Evil Seed!"

"I was under the control of the Dvapara-Yuga," he returned. "My training and my own will-power have broken the Ev...the _malfestation_ within me."

"Mal-what?"

"Good and evil are such outdated words," he smirked. "What happened four years ago was an infestation of malignant energy from Soul Edge: a _malfestation_. But it's under control, and I don't need Soul Calibur anymore."

"What about Wallachia?" she asked. "All those people we were helping with the Holy Stone?"

"The world doesn't need Soul Calibur's help anymore," Kilik replied. "Anything the tides of fate might throw our way, we can face on our own."

"Together," Xianghua added with a hopeful smile.

To her disappointment, he shook his head.

* * *

**(AN: I've been doing epic researching and, it appears, the whole "Evil Soul Calibur" thing was introduced in _SCIV_ [Kilik, Cassandra and Taki's stories in particular], and made canon in _SCV_. I'm still against that, but, apparently, the heroes aren't. This annoys me to no end, especially considering the Holy Stone could have cured Pyrrha [it cured Voldo of his connection to Soul Edge, and that _is_ canonical]: so why is Kilik being a douche by refusing to use it to save her? Not to mention what will happen in the long-run with Xianghua.)**

**(Having recently read some of the book of _Ben-Hur_, I incorporated the Byzantine/Turkish name for an inn [_han_] into the story. We also see the first appearance of the M-word: you know, the one that Patroklos say so much in _SCV_. It's practically his catch-phrase!)  
**


	3. End of the Line

**(AN: I think I can narrow down the stories to about...five and a half separate adventures. As you've seen, there have been subtle hints to the others in these stories: it all makes sense in the end.)  
**

**(Here we get to see another favorite, as well as some rather profound monologue and a subtle hint at said character's [ahem] endowments.)  
**

* * *

**End of the Line**

Taki was faceless, a thing of the shadows. Her only purpose in life was to seek and destroy evil. That quest led her into the west seven years ago in a battle that almost ended her. With the Greek warrior-woman at her side, they defeated the Dread Pirate and broke the power of Soul Edge. The evil, however, followed her home and infected her clan, which she continued to fight even to this very day. When rumors reached her of the Azure Knight, she made the journey westward again, and dogged the steps of those she had aided, assisting them whenever possible in exchange for information about Soul Edge.

Now the power was gone, the evil of Soul Edge destroyed. A great evil had passed from this world, for the time being. Though she herself had not done the deed, in the end, it was done and her work in the west was over.

Where could she go now? She knew nothing of her past; her _sensei_ Toki was the closest thing she had to a family, and now he was dead. Nor could she exactly throw down her _kodachi_ and take up the life of an ordinary woman. Though her face was fair, her body was not exactly according to the traditional Japanese standards of beauty. They always seemed to get in the way: first it was her training, then her movement and combat, now it was a potential future. Even if that weren't an issue, was she capable of bearing children? She had received many strong blows in her time, maybe she could no longer be a mother? Women were only wanted for that task, and her inability would make her an unlikely choice.

She sighed, her eyes turning back to the east, where darkness was setting in as the sunlight disappeared. There was only one duty that her life was given, and that was the destruction of evil. Many of the malevolent oni of her people now resided imprisoned, thanks to her blade. But there were always more, it seemed.

And so the faceless Fu-ma _kunoichi_ began her journey that would lead her back to Japan.

* * *

Istanbul. Once known as Constantinople, it was the gateway to the east. The Silk Road met here, which was her fastest route to the East. Of course, it never went as far as Japan, but she would have to improvise once she was back in the Ming Empire. She now walked hooded and cloaked among the people. An assassin is always invisible: no need to waste time and energy building-hopping in broad daylight when she could hide in plain sight.

As she walked, she saw familiar places. The Great Chain, where she had battled the odd creature Voldo, and the Hagia Sophia, whose shimmering dome she had seen in the distance as she met the masked warrior from back home. Across the Hellespont she saw what was left of the old Hippodrome, where she had clashed swords with the warrior Mitsurugi for the hundredth time, or so it seemed.

To her surprise, she saw a figure in familiar clothing ambling its way through the crowds. Taki guessed this newcomer was going to the nearby _han: _it was too late in the day for beginning travel.

Wrapping her cloak about her a little tighter and pulling the hood down over her face, she increased her pace a mite to keep up with the person in Japanese garb making their way to the _han_. The parasol was easy to follow in the crowd, so she didn't have to worry about losing her quarry, even without her keen tracking skills.

She saw the figure, hidden behind the parasol, speak to the gate-keeper of the _han_ and pay for a room. Taki's purse had very little coin, barest necessary for the return trip, and she could not afford to make a scene trying to haggle. As she was waiting, a _mullah_ arrived at the _han_ with several of his wives. Taki hid herself among them and so gained passage without anyone so much as casting an eye in her direction.

Once inside, she left the little group of veiled Turkish women and resumed her pursuit of the parasol. It came to rest near the stables where the horses were kept and began pacing about, calculatedly and with purpose.

"You're far away from home, _oiran_," she addressed the figure. Slowly the parasol was collapsed and the figure turned about. She was clad most strangely, in the robes of an _oiran_ decorated with strange creatures bearing eagles' wings and lion's bodies. Her hair was blond and she looked more like a European up close than Taki had first surmised.

"Home is wherever you choose to call it," the _oiran_ replied. "But for me, there can be no home, no rest, not while..." She shook her head. "I apologize, that is my burden alone."

"No need to apologize," Taki assured the _oiran_. "I noticed the way you walk, your stance: it speaks of pain, of anger...of a thirst for vengeance."

"I don't question your actions, _ninja_," she spat with a condescending air of self-righteousness. "Don't try to analyze mine." She then looked at the hooded and cloaked figure once again.

"What makes you think I'm a _ninja_?" Taki asked.

"I've seen you before," the _oiran_ answered. "You were there, at the Tower, when the Light flashed. You were tracking the Azure Knight."

"I'm not a _ninja_," Taki replied. "I'm a protector."

"I don't need protection," the _oiran_ brushed off. "Swords and souls mean nothing to me."

"You're in greater danger from yourself and from your quarry than from the two swords," Taki returned.

"I don't need to listen to your patronizing." the _oiran_ sniffed, then opened her parasol and started walking away.

"He killed someone, didn't he?" Taki called back. "Someone close to you? Someone you loved?"

The _oiran_ came to a halt, but did not turn around. Taki instead turned about and looked after her.

"If you continue down this road," Taki continued. "It will consume you. Would the one you loved have wanted you to become a prisoner of vengeance?"

The relative silence of the _han_ fell between them, neither budging or saying a word. The _kunoichi_'s battle instincts told her to ready her blade in case her opponent attacked, but yet she heard nothing yet.

"Damn you!" the _oiran_ growled back. "You know nothing!"

Without another word, the _oiran_ departed. Taki then made her way to the stables, hoping to find a secret way out of the _han_. Her business was concluded, and now the tides of fate were pushing her back home.

* * *

Japan. Taki gazed out longingly at her home, with its tall mountains, lush green forests and rolling plains. She had been too long away from her native homeland, and it greeted her with such warmth as home does to any long bereft therefrom.

Once she left the dock, she made her way to her contact outside Kyoto. Now she rode by horse, still cloaked and hooded, with a straw hat on her head. The horse-ride to Kyoto was uneventful, which was a good sign, especially in these chaotic times. Taki took the time to enjoy what beauty she could find in nature all around her. The forests were dark and foreboding, but they held a kind of mystical beauty as well. Then again, she could just be getting sentimental in her old age. Though people lived quite long here in her homeland, she heard that people in the west barely made it to fifty.

At the gates of Kyoto, she encountered her contact.

"Chie-san!" Taki greeted with a smile, upon seeing her childhood friend. The other woman simply nodded in recognition: though she did not speak, she usually showed some ghost of happiness upon seeing her old friend. Today, however, things were different.

"Something troubles you," Taki asked, her smile fading as she looked upon Chie's grim countenance.

Chie nodded, then removed from out of the folds of her kimono a tiny bundle, which squirmed in her arms as she held it out for Taki to behold. From out of the bundle there beamed an infant's face gleaming up at her.

**-{-|-o-O-o-|-}-**

Months had passed since Chie had shown her the child, Taki and she had been cloistered in the Fu-ma mountain fortress. As it turned out, being the daughter of the former clan leader, Chie was next in line to lead the Fu-ma clan. All decisions were passed through the two of them, with Taki speaking to the petitioners on behalf of Chie's introversion.**  
**

Any of the hopes of having a family, even a foster one, that went through Taki's mind when she saw the baby left her within the first few days. There was something terribly wrong with the child: the Mekki and Rekki-Maru hummed with energy whenever they came near to it. Only the sealing spells she knew could keep the presence at bay, and those were quite exhausting.

When they returned to the fortress, she learned from the others that this baby was possessed by the spirit of a malignant old god, which had caused the destruction of her village, possessed this infant and then used it to tear its parents apart as it was being born. Taki shuddered at the thoughts, and prayed to the ancestors for their spirits. Now, however, she had this demonic entity trapped within the body of this innocent child.

One night, she was allowed some time on her own, which she spent walking the streets of Kyoto, dressed as a commoner. Her thoughts returned to that innocent child, not even a year old, and already being used by the old god. Her thoughts went out to her Greek friend, the one who had died "when the Light flashed". She had always kept communication with them after that incident in Valencia, when they struck down Cervantes together and thought Soul Edge was vanquished. She remembered when she passed her hands over the poor girl's wounds, using all of her skill to save her. Her wounds were poisoned, tainted with the evil of Soul Edge. What if something like that had transferred to her children? What if one of them had been tainted by the evil of Soul Edge, and was now being controlled by the forces of evil, just as Chie's adopted daughter?

As she passed within walking distance of Nijo Castle, she saw a lone figure limping out into the darkness, then collapse onto the dusty street as if dead. She made her way to see who this unfortunate person was, and, if she was not too late, to do something to save her.

* * *

**(AN: Might seem a little hither and yon, but I have ulterior motive.)**

**(There's a lot of things in this chapter that might make you scratch your head. I made a none-too-subtle statement about Taki's...endowments [if you know what I mean]. Furthermore, I'm only guessing that she's one in a million who has _that,_ which, at the time at least, was not considered beautiful [at least in Europe, it might have been so in Japan]. Like with _Siegfried_, the intent is to put the story in its historic context. Yes, that _oiran_ is Setsuka, and her outfit is based on that of an _oiran_, not a _geisha_, according to the official lore. Yes, that _is_ the same _han_ you saw in the previous chapter, just earlier in the day. Yes, the demon-possessed baby is Naruto...[cough] I mean Natsu. Probably should have used "Chie-chan", but that didn't sound right [imo].)  
**


	4. Into the Void

**(AN: As I said, all is important in some way or another.)**

**(Due to what happens, I will put the 'end' portion of the author's note in the beginning half. Here we get to see our French 'couple' again, and what will eventually lead up to why Raphael was searching for Amy in the first chapter. As far as their relationship goes, so far all we've seen is adopted father/adopted daughter [though I think it's silly that Raphael wants to "create a new world for Amy and I", which suggests a lot of people dying and bad things happening - imo - just because she's shy and introverted], though it could be that it might have evolved into something more, like with Setsuka and her master [originally it was adopted father/master/adopted daughter/pupil, but then he grew to love her as more than that, which also is important for the story, later on, of course]. Now enjoy this chapter, named after the _Black Sabbath_ song. I don't own that, anymore than I own anything in this story, since _Soul Calibur_ is property of NAMCO.)  
**

* * *

**Into the Void**

The battle shifted away from the Tower of Remembrance and towards the valley, tortured by rivers of fire. The endgame would not be here on the top of the Hero-King's tower, but here in the valley: the Spirit Sword was in danger.

"_Suis-moi_," Raphael said to the little girl at his side, as he made his way towards the valley.

Amy, however, was not intent on following Raphael. He always was doing things, though she never really knew what he was doing or why. Every time it meant he would leave their "home", with the promise that everything would be better upon his return.

But it never was. The first time he came back, he was almost dead and she had cried over his broken body until it seemed she could cry no more. What happened after that made both of them…_different_. They were creatures of the night now, feasting off the blood of those who were their enemies or enslaved by Raphael.

Then he left again, but this time, she refused to be left behind. Eventually she caught up to him, but he was still on his adventures, this time looking for something called Soul Calibur. She had never heard of it before, but the mention of the name made her skin crawl with fear.

_That_ was what he was after. The big man in the shiny armor with the glowing sword had gone down into the valley, and Raphael believed he had the Sword he sought. Once again, she knew nothing else other than 'everything would be alright' once he had it. Whatever that meant!

Amy was alright as it was. Sure, she found herself unable to speak and suddenly struck with a paralyzing fear when she was around other people, but she didn't need _other_ people. She had Raphael, and that was enough for her: but not for him, it seemed. A strange thought entered her mind as Raphael moved onward, towards the valley.

_If he cares about my happiness, why does he keep pursuing the Sword? I don't need everything to be 'alright', I just want him. Doesn't that matter? Do my desire matter so little to him?_

* * *

Just then, Amy saw a strange light glowing in the distance away from the valley. It was small, round like a ball, and seemed to float in mid-air, suspended on nothing. She remembered the old tales Raphael used to tell her, where fairy people would appear as a tiny ball of light, called a _feu follet_, and lead unwary children into a cave or into a deep pool of water where they would be lost forever.

"_Oui_?" she asked it curiously. No answer came from the light other than the faint ringing of clear, silver bells.

"_Bonjour_?" she asked it again. The bells kept ringing, and the tiny ball of light continued to hover and glow and ring just as before, soft enough that it could barely be heard over the chaos below.

"_Qu'est-ce que vous êtes?_" Still, the little ball of light gave no answer.

She turned around, but saw Raphael was making his way towards the valley, completely unaware of the little girl and her discovery. She turned back to the light, and saw that it was bouncing away, getting smaller as it went.

"_Non!_" she exclaimed. "_Attendez! Revenez!_"

As quickly as her heeled boots could carry her, she began following the little bouncing light. All else by comparison seemed dim and unworthy of her attention. This little light had come to _her_ above anyone else, and she had to see what it was, whatever that might be.

* * *

She was now on the brink of the valley, and the roar of the battle was close in her ears. Orders were barked out to the soldiers from their commanders in German, while all seemed to move about the two figures in the midst of the battle. This was not her concern, however, for the light was still bouncing away into the evening.

Suddenly, she collided with something taller than her and was thrown to the ground, landing unceremoniously on her rear. The one she had bumped into was indeed much taller than she, wearing a man's jacket, knee-high white boots, blond hair tied back with a bow, and wielding a short sword and a shield.

"Hey!" the taller one grumbled. "Watch where you're going!"

"_Pardonnez-moi_," she returned. "_Désolée_."

The taller one said nothing more, but got herself up, dusted herself off, and made for the thick of the battlefield.

"Idiot," Amy whispered beneath her breath. _Such rudeness!_

But her indignation was brief, for she looked about and saw the little ball of light was disappearing. Picking herself up, she dusted herself off from the fall. Unfortunately, her little skullette was missing. She didn't have time to look for it, though, as she doubled her pace, eager to catch up to the strange ball of light. Still it moved onward, like the water from the lips of Tantalus, always just beyond reach.

By and by, she had come upon a dark forest, with the bright light leading her onward into the dark depths of the forest. This made her quite worried, for she had heard tales of witches, bears and man-eating wolves that lived in the _Schwarzwald. _She had no idea where she now was, but the tales of the _Schwarzwald_ were enough to make any forest frightening.

The sound of rustling leaves was heard somewhere nearby. Amy looked, and thought she saw something swishing, like the hem of a white robe being quickly drawn away after itself. She drew her rapier with a _zing_ and pointed it out at the foreboding, dark trees around her. No answer came, no sound of gunshot or ring of sword drawn from sheeth in response to her challenge.

_Boom_! A deep, deafening, earth-shaking pulse was heard behind her, and the forest was alight. She looked back briefly and could see a bright light shining somewhere in the distance.

Then the tinkling became louder. She turned around and saw the little ball of light was growing brighter and growing nearer. She tried to run, for fear of what might happen next, but she found her limbs too weak to move on. Her whole body collapsed, and her world was consumed by blackness.

* * *

_Stupid little girl_, Cassandra thought as she brushed off her latest encounter. _Children should not be let onto the battlefield_, she thought. Of course, she had forgotten, long ago, when her sister Sophitia had left home on her first journey, and how _she_ - Cassandra - had wanted to go with her, but was too young.

Sophitia. She was always being dragged away from home to do the bidding of the old gods, particularly Hephaestus the Forge-Master, or of the Spirit Sword Soul Calibur. _Damn them all_, she thought. Sophitia is a woman, and a mother at that: it's not her place to be doing _their_ dirty work.

That was why she first left home in search of her sister, and why she had followed her the second time. This time, however, things were different. She was chasing the Holy Stone, hoping it might be able to save Sophitia's daughter Pyrrha from this terrible fate. Thinking the German _Landschknet_ she had met in Spain, now reported to be carrying a large piece of crystal, was the bearer of the Holy Stone. This brought her to Ostrheinsburg, where she encountered, of all people, Sophitia!

Something was terribly wrong with her. Now she was fighting to _protect_ Soul Edge, killing those heroes who tried to destroy Nightmare and the Evil Sword. The whole world was turned up on its head, it seemed! In that one moment where she realized this, Cassandra blacked out and woke up minutes later with a head-ache.

Now she was back on her feet and searching for Sophitia, hoping she could find her before she did something terrible.

The battle was done, the warfare ended. She was now in the valley where the great battle had happened. Now all was over, and those who survived were taking care of the wounded and counting their dead. Cassandra looked among them, hoping to find some trace of her sister. She spoke to the soldiers in what German she knew, but none of them could answer her.

Amid the gloom of battle, the screams of dying soldiers and the cries of those who see before them an afterlife with no hope, Cassandra heard a most curious noise: curious because it was so out of place in such a hell as this. It was the cry of a child. Not a cry of hunger or thirst, or of true sadness, but just a cry. With that cry ringing in her ears, Cassandra made her way out of the hordes of the dying and dead, following the sounds of the child. What she saw broke her heart immediately: that strange little creature in red, caught between her chaotic mood swings, kneeling next to the weeping baby. To her utter and profound horror, she saw a woman, clothed in white, lying in a pool of blood just a hair's length away from the baby, her hand stretched out as if to impart one last caress to the child before death claimed her.

Before death claimed her...

"No!" Cassandra cried out. Disregarding the hideous creature bawling for the loss of her dark lord, she threw herself on to the ground, spoiling her boots in the puddle of blood, and cradled the woman's body in her arms. It was Sophitia. Her body was cold, her white clothes stained with blood that was slowly pouring out of a large, gaping hole in her stomach. On her face, permanently etched, was the ghost of sadness: her unmoving green eyes still stained with tears.

"Sophitia," she wept, as she caressed the pale, cold face of her sister. "Sophitia..." What _could_ she say? She knew Sophitia could not come back; she was not in Heaven, not in Elysium, but gone and nothing could bring her back. But how did this happen? How did it come to this?

"Sophitia..." she pressed the cold face of her sister into her bosom as she wept on her head, still golden soft even in death. She herself now began to feel as cold as ice, as if the chill of death was a plague that now infected her. She was numb all over, and felt empty and void, meaningless and futile. Her sister's family was broken, a father left to tend a baby son, a daughter kidnapped by that wretched little b*tch, and now their mother ripped from them before they even got to know her.

She pulled herself out of the embrace, oblivious to the fact that her blue jacket, boots and legs were covered in her sister's blood. She tore off her white gloves and then very gently closed Sophitia's eyes forever.

Sophitia Alexandros' face was glowing, as if she was indeed an angel. Suddenly, Cassandra found herself being pulled away from her sister's body, which now fell back down into the pool of blood. She reached out, but the power that was dragging her back was too strong. Light and reality collapsed all around her and Cassandra sank into the depths of the void.

* * *

**(AN:/)**


	5. A Night in the Desert

**(AN: As far as a time-line for this story, the obvious 'beginning' is in the valley beneath the Tower of Remembrance, where Nightmare and Siegfried are facing off against each other surrounded by the Wolfkrone forces [a la the chapter "Armageddon" from _Siegfried_]. Yes, _ThalieXVII_, Sophitia's end is the same in both stories. As far as the [current] _Soul Calibur_ fan-fics of mine go, they're all part of the same wmv1990 _Soul Calibur_ fanon, and all subsequent ones will be of the same fanon unless otherwise stated.)  
**

* * *

**A Night in the Desert**

To this day, many miles of trackless desert sands separate two eastern lands. Few apart from the nomadic Bedouin know the nameless paths under the sun that lead to the Far East. Fewer still who have set out to tread these paths ever return. Yet it was these paths that Kilik and Xianghua sought, for these would lead them, as they had Marco Polo centuries ago, to the land of the East.

The two rode atop camels, clad in the garb of the desert, with the veils pulled over their faces to keep out the sand. They had with them two water skins, one for each of them, which they used sparingly. It had to last them across the desert, and there were no mile-markers, roads or landmarks to indicate distance: only the white hot oceans of sand, and the occasional rocky basins, dry as old bones and littered with nothing but golden-red canyons.

At night, when the moon was full and the stars were out, they followed its light as long as they could remain in the saddle. Once one of them looked like they were nodding off, they would find a secluded place and come to rest on the desert floor. They woke when sleep was driven from them by the light of the rising sun, and set their course by it at day.

Of course, there were dangers in the desert. Snakes and wolves were the least of their worries: not all of the Bedouin tribes were friendly towards outsiders, whether from the East or West, and they knew these desert lands better than they did. Ambushes were a constant threat, both at night and day.

For the most part, however, their journey was rather uneventful; a tedious yet trying struggle against the overwhelming powers of the desert and the scorching fire of the sun. One which they seemed to be enduring, albeit wearily.

* * *

Ironically, the desert became very cold at night. There were no trees in the desert, not even brush to start a small fire, so their only choice for warmth was to remain bundled in their dry, sand-encrusted clothing, or huddle close together. Kilik often meditated by himself, so all Xianghua had to huddle up next to was her smelly, spit-mouthed camel. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but this was not one of the most pleasant parts of their journey. This persisted for many nights of their journey.

During the day, they were silent, with Kilik making his way and Xianghua following on behind. None of them had much to say to each other: he didn't feel like talking, and she respected his need for silence. Then again, talking made their mouths dry and was a sure way to run through their supply of water before they reached the end of the desert.

One night, however, Xianghua simply could not stand the silence any longer. The low, dull howl of the desert sands was hypnotic, but she could not sleep. The howl of the desert beasts struck fear into her heart, and she longed for companionship.

"Kilik?" she spoke up. It was strange to hear her voice after so many days of silent thought.

For once, however, he was not meditating. He was the first one to show signs of weariness at the end of the day and so had gone to sleep almost immediately after Xianghua helped him off his camel. Now he was lying down, wrapped in a heavy cloak to keep out the cold of the desert night. He did not stir when his name was called.

Xianghua took a step closer to where he lay. "Kilik, please," she began. "I know you think of me as nothing more than a child, but it's been four years since we first met. I wish...just once, I wish you would let the past die. Whatever you think I am, the truth is that I am Chai Xianghua and..." Her voice failed her, as if she were that child of sixteen once again. Then old words of wisdom came flowing back into her mind.

_No more hesitation. You must cut your way through an uncertain future._

"I love you," she said at last.

The Ling-Sheng Su monk was still non-responsive, as he lay within the senseless twilight between sleep and waking, where the lines between reality and fantasy disappear.

Dainty hands brushed back the coarse, sand-blasted outer robe and veil from off her person. She knelt down beside Kilik, caressing his brow with her hand. Her fingers rested for a moment on the scar below his left eye, wondering where it had come from. Both hands then moved down, removing his travel clothes as she had done to herself.

Without a moment's hesitation, she pressed her tiny body against his chest and wrapped her lips around his. The time for hesitation was over.

* * *

**(AN: Implied, but you all know what happens. [actually, I did some calculations, and they, Kilik and Xianghua, had to have had intercourse at least once during the '91 period for Monkey-boy, aka. Xiba the Hungry, to be born on April 20th, 1592. The 'years later Kilik appears' affair must, therefore, refer to Leixia].)**

**(Desert setting because my area is experiencing a heat-wave, and I was recently at the beech [not all it's cracked up to be, especially during the hot season].)  
**


	6. Farewells

**(AN: I'm very, very grateful for all the positive reaction I've gotten for this story.)  
**

**(Lol, just let me indulge you in this chapter, where we see two familiar faces, and tie in this plot with another.)  
**

* * *

**Farewells**

The port in India was crowded with ships and people, bustling here and there on their own business. Many from the far East gathered here as well, hoping to take ships around China back to their home-land. Here three friends were preparing to bid their last farewells. From here, they would go their separate ways: Seong Mi-na and Yun-seong would follow the main-land towards Korea, and Talim would sail east, towards the Philippines.

For now, though, they had a long time to wait until the ships appeared.

"So, I guess this is good-bye," Seong Mi-na said.

"Come on," Yun-seong smiled. "We'll still be together. We practically live in the same town."

"Yeah, that's true," Seong Mi-na replied. She looked over at their little friend, and saw Talim looking off wistfully into the eastern sky.

"Homesick?" she asked.

"A little," Talim replied. "As far as I can tell, the wind is favorable. Our journey will be short and uneventful."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Yun-seong commented. "Don't want to run into any storms on the open sea, right?"

"Look who we have here!" a voice exclaimed. Yun-seong and Seong Mi-na, recognizing their native tongue, turned about and saw one they had not expected to see in a long while.

"Hwang!" Seong Mi-na greeted.

"You again," Yun-seong snorted. "Come to tell me to go home, have you? Think Soul Edge is too powerful for me?"

"Still at, are you?" Hwang replied, crossing his arms.

Yun-seong shook his head and turned away, muttering angry words at Hwang that made Talim blush.

"He's a little upset," Seong Mi-na told her old friend. "You see, after you left us, Soul Edge was destroyed. He's still pretty upset about it."

Hwang cast his eyes westward, then sighed deeply. "It is how it should be." He then turned back to Seong Mi-na. "Our paths home are joined together. Would you mind terribly if I joined you?"

"Not at all," Seong Mi-na said. "Perhaps you can talk some sense into Yun-seong. Even forcing him to carry the baggage hasn't taken the edge off him."

Hwang laughed, then made his way toward Yun-seong. Just as he was, someone bumped rather rudely into him and started to walk off without a second glance or an apology.

"Hey!" Yun-seong jumped up, drawing his sword. "You! Come back here!"

"Hong, it's okay," Hwang shook off.

"No, it's not okay, didn't you see his clothes?" Yun-seong replied. "You think your people can just push us around? Why don't you come down here and face me, or are you afraid?"

The figure slowly turned around, drawing a thin, slender blade from out of his robes. When they saw what kind of sword he wielded, and what clothing he wore, they knew the reason of Yun-seong's outburst.

"Bold words from a dead dog," the samurai replied.

Yun-seong drew his own sword from its sheath and attacked the samurai without a second thought. Seong Mi-na, however, did not have to watch more than five clashes between the two combatants before she brought her _wol-do_ and joined in the fray. Yun-seong was quick, but his style was sloppy: the samurai moved with power and precision, and would have laid Yun-seong headless upon the ground in another five clashes. Unfortunately, the _wol-do_ was not much different than the _naginata_, over which Mitsurugi was still a master on the field of battle.

However, more than four years of experience fighting the Evil Seed and other warriors seeking Soul Calibur made Seong Mi-na more than than usual halberdeer. So, although Mitsurugi was more powerful and could probably have defeated Seong Mi-na should they have to fight indefinitely, she could certainly hold her own.

Just then, Hwang jumped into the fray, sword drawn, pointed at the samurai.

"I don't have time for this," the samurai snorted. He delivered a kick that knocked Yun-seong off his feet, then double-backed onto a small ship that took him away from the dock.

"Dammit!" Yun-seong shouted. "It's not enough that his people threaten us day by day, but now he won't even honor us with a fair fight!"

"Please, Yun-seong," Seong Mi-na stated. "You don't need to fight him to prove that you're the stronger."

"But..."

"She's right," Hwang nodded. "I have a feeling we'll all have a chance to prove our strength against his people."

"That time is now!"

"Soon, Yun-seong," Hwang mused prophetically. "Very soon."

* * *

The ship to the Philippines was very, very late. In fact, Talim ended up spending the night in the town temple. It didn't bother her, for the monks were kind and she had nothing against their Hindu faith. In the morning, as the monks were attending their devotions, she walked out to the beautiful courtyard and listened for the sound of the wind.

_Yes,_ she thought. _It will come today._

As the day was dawning, she made her way to the dock, where her ship would soon be arriving. Once she got there, she saw several people already readying themselves for their own journeys. She happened to see a parasol unfurled among the crowd, one that seemed oddly familiar.

"Excuse me," she said, walking up to the parasol-wielder. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

The parasol turned about, and Talim saw a young European woman, dressed in the garb of a Japanese courtesan.

"I think so," the _oiran_ said. "I remember meeting you here a few months ago."

"Yes, that's right," Talim nodded. "It seems our paths have crossed again on the return journey."

"That seems appropriate enough," the _oiran_ replied. "So, how did you get here?"

"By way of Naples, Alexandria and Ethiopia," Talim repeated. "Yourself?"

"I came the straight way," the _oiran_ said. "Over land, by way of Istanbul."

"I've never been to Japan," Talim continued. "What is it like?"

"It's many things, child," the _oiran_ replied. "But, for me, it is only a temporary respite. I'm searching for a samurai, have you seen one?"

"Actually," Talim nodded. "There was one here on this very dock just yesterday. I think he was going back to Japan as well." She then looked up at the parasol-wielding _oiran_. "You seek vengeance on him?"

"What do you know about it?" the _oiran_ asked with a sneer.

"The wind about you," Talim said. "I can feel it. It speaks of your anger, of your hunger for vengeance."

"I don't have time to listen to your fairy tales, little girl," the _oiran_ snubbed, then turned her parasol on Talim.

"Please, let go of your hatred," Talim called back. "It will destroy you."

"Won't everyone just stop telling me how to live my life!" the _oiran_ growled under her breath as she left the little girl calling out to her.

* * *

**(AN: Another intricate piece of our story is now put into place, and the heroes' fates are further entwined.)**


	7. Chaos

**(AN: Thank you once again for all the reviews. They keep me going with this story [lol])**

**(Here is a new idea and the reemergence of several familiar characters.)  
**

* * *

**Chaos**

When Cassandra opened her eyes, what she saw was both frightening and breath-taking. A world of darkness, with waves of violet light flowing like water through the void. Looking about, she saw a great black hole, ringed with white light, far off in one direction, with the waves flowing either into it or out from it. All sense of direction was gone, for there was no light, no sun, no north, south, east or west in this void realm.

"Hello?" she asked, but her voice fell dead as it escapes her lips. There was no echo, and yet this 'other world' seemed too large for there to be no echo at all.

She looked first at the white circle, but it was so bright that she had to turn her eyes away, into the blackness. She gave out a cry that was as powerful as a whisper when she saw a single yellow eye, burning with fire, gazing out at her from the depths of the void.

Suddenly, a voice appeared from out of the midst of the darkness. In Cassandra's ears, it spoke in the deep, guttural growling of a beast in words she could not discern, yet in her mind, she could understand exactly what had been said.

_Come to me._

She reached down to her belt and found her sword was still in his sheath, where she put it after the battle ended. On her back, also, was her shield, which she removed and strapped to her arm.

"Who are you?" she asked. "What are you?"

_Come to me._ No other words were said, but the yellow eye was still searching for her. Sword drawn and shield at the ready, she took a step closer towards the burning yellow glow.

_Do not go toward the light._

"Why not?" she asked. "Isn't that you?"

_Do not speak, the Beast will hear you. Follow my voice._

She turned away from the burning glow, then took a look at the ground. It was made of a kind of living rock she had never seen before in all her days. Looking about, she saw an island of rock floating in the midst of the void, on which she was standing.

"Uh," she bit the bottom of her lip. "I'm sort of...stuck?"

_Come to me._

"But I can't," she bemoaned. "There's no way off this...floating island."

_Come to me._

"Dammit, I can't!" she shouted.

Suddenly, another voice roared from the darkness. This was different all-together: deep, bestial, but terrible. Her feet seemed chained to the ground, her blood froze within her veins, her heart stopped beating within her chest: it all seemed to be over as the void as taking her once again.

* * *

_Come back._

There is an old saying that one goes from a bad to a worse, just as a piece of bacon goes out of the frying pan and into the fire. For Cassandra, that seemed to be the case, as waking was suddenly more terrible than sleep. She slowly opened her eyes and saw red eyes gleaming up at her from out of the darkness.

"Ahh!" she screamed, and tried to run away, but her back hit against a rough, hard wall of rock directly behind her.

_I mean you no harm._ The first voice said. The voice, however, was coming from the creature standing before her. Kneeling was the truth, for she noticed that the cave in which they were was very small and the creature was hunched over, clad in torn and frayed robes. It's left arm, also, was hideously deformed, akin to the right arm of the Azure Knight.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice trembling.

_In ancient times_, the voice said. _I was a seeker of the Sword of Heroes, the same as you_.

"What?" she asked. "Hey, look. I'm not after any Sword of Heroes. As far as I'm concerned, both Soul Edge _and_ Soul Calibur can go to hell after what they've done to my family."

_It's not that simple, it never has been,_ the voice said.

"Okay, enough of your cryptic double-talk," Cassandra replied. "Just tell me how to get out of here."

_You cannot_, the creature said. _Even if you could escape the Beast, you don't have within the power to break the Gates of Night and return to the world of the living._

"I can still try," she replied.

_And you will fail_.

"And what makes you so sure I can't get back?" she angrily replied. "Just who are you anyhow?"

_In your world, I was called Necrid_. _Here, I am just one of the many denizens of the Void_.

Cassandra didn't say anything, since this made no sense to her. Then again, she never understood anything about Soul Edge or Soul Calibur, just that she felt that both of them had torn her sister and her family apart. That was all that mattered to her now: she had to get away and back to her own world.

"Alright, how do I get out of here?" she asked again.

_There is no way out that you could find_, Necrid replied.

"But could _you_ find a way?"

_Why should I? _

"Because innocent lives are at stake!" she urged. "I have to go back or else something bad will...no, something bad _has_ happened, and I have to make things right."

_By destroying Soul Edge?_

"Wha-no! My niece can't live without it!" She then paused, remembering what happened nine years ago, when Sophitia first left on her journey to destroy Soul Edge.

"Though if it isn't destroyed, wouldn't the... Ugh! Aren't the gods happy already? She's dead! Isn't that what they wanted?"

_Do not blame the gods for the mistakes of mortals_.

"Why not? Couldn't they just make everything better?"

_A parent does not do everything for its child, or else they will never learn on their own._

"That's stupid," she replied. Just as she was about to say something else, she sighed and began crawling towards the exit of the cave.

_I cannot let you leave_.

"Why? Gonna try and stop me?"

_If I don't, the Beast will kill you_.

"Let it try," she mocked.

* * *

Without a moment's hesitation, she crawled out of the cave, her small size working to her advantage against the larger creature. Once outside, she looked this way and that to see to what dark part of this 'void' she had been taken. Nothing around her looked familiar, then again, what really _was_ this place? The white circle around the black hole seemed to be in the same place, as though it had not moved: or rather, as though _she_ had not moved. Looking up and around, she saw large chunks of the strange rock floating through the void, as though the laws of nature had no power here.

From far away, the low rumbling roar of the Beast could be heard. It froze Cassandra in place, even as it had done beforehand. Her own resolve to escape this place without meaning was barely strong enough to enable her to pull herself free and start running. She did not get very far, for the edge of the island on which she stood was closer than she thought.

_Jump_.

Cassandra was shocked to hear the new voice. It was not bestial at all, like the voice of Necrid: it was clear and beautiful, like the rays of the sun shining through tinkling, crystal chimes in the Lost Cathedral.

"But, but there's nothing down there!" she bemoaned. "If I jump, I'll...I'll..." She didn't know what would happen if she jumped. There was no bottom, it seemed, to the void below her feet. Would she find no resting place for her foot, and spend eternity falling with no hope of even death as an escape?

_Have faith_.

Cassandra laughed at this, but she had very little choice otherwise. The sound of great dragon's wings flapping was heard behind her, and the burning yellow glow seemed to be getting brighter and nearer. Though she did not know what lay beyond, she did not wish to find out: even by the distant echo of its growls, she was immobilized and all bravery vanished from within her.

_This is insane!_ she thought to herself, as she leaped off into the void.

* * *

**(AN: I had wanted to conclude her part here, but then thought I could always do that in the next chapter, and it would be like "Into the Void" [I won't say how].)**

**(Yes, that was in fact _the_ Necrid from _SCII_. He is something of a denizen of the Void, thriving off the energies of Soul Edge, though his consciousness is still his own.)  
**


	8. An Old Friend

**(AN: And now, back to the desert...)  
**

* * *

**An Old Friend**

Xianghua was the first one to rise that morning. She sighed contentedly into Kilik's chest, remembering all that had happened the night before under the stars. Very carefully, so as to not arouse suspicion when he awoke, she covered Kilik back up, then addressed herself to cladding herself as well.

She was fully dressed once Kilik finally stirred from his sleep. They drank of their water-skins, then addressed themselves for their journey.

"It's the strangest thing," Kilik stated.

"What is strange, Kilik?" Xianghua asked.

"I had a dream last night," he said. "It...you were in it."

Xianghua stifled a giggle and averted her eyes, that he wouldn't see her blushing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," he said. "But..." He shook his head. "Come on, we have a long way to go before our journey's end."

She nodded, and then asked for help getting up onto her camel. Maybe it was a selfish desire to feel his hands on her body again, but she didn't betray her true desire.

**-{-|-o-O-o-|-}-**

As the day went on, they spoke very little to each other. Kilik was doubtlessly pondering the meaning of his dream, while Xianghua did not want to let Kilik know what she had done last night. By and by, they mounted the highest sand-dune and came to a place where they could see for miles around. Directly before them, across an ocean of sand, they saw white mountains peaking their heads off in the far distance.

"We're almost home," Kilik said.

"Those mountains," Xianghua asked. "That's where he lives, isn't it?"

Kilik nodded, but said nothing else. Soon their journey would be done, and he could be rid of her presence once and for all.

* * *

Slowly, the atmosphere of the desert began to change. The sweltering heat was replaced with the onset of the coming cold from the high mountains. Low, stunted grass began to peak up through the cracked, dry earth. Soon the desert had given way to a dry scrub, and then that to a wind-swept steppe. Once the air became chilly in their lungs, they saw a small village on the steadily increasing slopes at the foot of the approaching mountains. Here they sold the camels and acquired warm clothing and snow shoes.

Their journey now took them into the high mountains of the Himalayas, where they climbed the hidden pathways known only to the indigenous people and the fabled Yeti. They crossed the high, snow-covered mountains, over which few had ever passed, and came at last to a hidden valley, known to the natives as Shambhala.

Here, in this place of peace, the oldest living swords-master, known only as the Edge Master, was rumored to live. Here Kilik had traveled four years ago and learned from the Edge Master how to contain the Evil Seed that made him go insane when separated from the Dvapara-Yuga.

They arrived at the _dojo _by a small wooden boat that was rowed up to thesparing arena. Up the stairs at the top of the arena, formed out of a plateau of the white rocks of the mountain, where they saw the Edge Master dueling with a student. At a distance, they didn't know who the person was who now was being trained under the watchful eye of the master. As Kilik climbed the last steps, he saw the last person he ever expected to see.

"Makishi!" he said.

"Well, I'll be damned!" the Okinawan pirate exclaimed. "I guess the world isn't as large as people think."

"What brings you here?" Kilik asked. "The last time we parted, you were leaving humanity behind on your quest for vengeance."

"It's the old man again," Maxi smiled. "He saved my life again."

"I see you've come back, Kilik," the Edge Master said to the young man. "And I see you've learned nothing on your journeys."

"I've learned that Soul Calibur is not to be trusted," Kilik replied. "It's as evil as Soul Edge."

"Hmph!" the Edge Master snorted. "You sound like _him_. He dared to insult the gods and felt their wrath."

"There are no gods, master," Kilik replied. "And as soon as I find the rest of the Dvapara-Yuga, I'm going to make sure it is destroyed."

The Edge Master's brow creased in worry, and he stroked his long, white beard. Xianghua looked at Maxi, who shrugged and then turned back to the Edge Master.

"It appears, then," the old man said. "That your time as the bearer of the Kali-Yuga has come to an end."

"Why?" Kilik shot back. "Because I'm enlightened? Because I've shaken off all ignorant superstitions of the past?"

"Presumptuous!" the Edge Master growled. "That an ignorant youth rudely thinks he can tell everyone that everything their ancestors have held true for thousands of years is false." He then shook his head. "Where have I failed with you?"

"I don't need to hear this!" Kilik replied.

"You have forfeited the right to bear Kali-Yuga," the Edge Master said. "Because of your desire to destroy Soul Calibur. Without the Spirit Sword to check its power, the evil of Soul Edge will grow unchallenged and will cover the world in darkness. You've become as great a threat as if someone had stolen the Kali-Yuga from you: so now, it is no longer yours."

"Come and take it from me!" Kilik shouted, raising the staff into attack position.

"Kilik, no! Please!" Xianghua begged.

The Edge Master calmly walked towards the young Ling-Sheng Su monk, arms held behind his back. Kilik thrust the end of his staff out towards the old man, who leisurely evaded it by leaning to the left. Another jab and the old man weaved to the right with ease. Kilik then swept the staff at the old man's legs, but he leaped up with surprising agility and speed for one so old, and struck Kilik in the face with an open palm. The monk fell to the floor, cradling his face with both hands: Kali-Yuga fell harmlessly to the floor.

"You still have much to learn," the Edge Master said. He then looked at Xianghua. "He will live." He then turned to Maxi and gestured for him to follow him.

* * *

That evening, Xianghua and Kilik remained in a room that offered a view of the snowy white mountains. His nose was broken, but otherwise, he was still alive and well. Xianghua tried to offer some assistance, but he was starting to grow irritable.

"Kilik, please," she urged. "I want to help you."

"You want to help me?" he asked. She nodded, a hopeful look in her eyes. He stood up and walked towards the door, his face and eyes averted from the tiny Ming woman.

"I want you to leave," he responded. "Go, wherever you choose, as long as it is away from me. When you are gone, I want you to forget you ever knew me, and never try to seek me again."

"Kilik!" she gasped. "Why do you want me to leave? Don't you..."

"There was a woman," he said. "Back at the Ling-Sheng Su Temple. Her name was Xianglian: she was like a sister to me. On the day that the first _malfestation_ occurred, she saved me from being _malfested_, and...and I killed her. She became _malfested_ and attacked me, and I killed her. My beloved sister!"

"Kilik," she tried to say, but he cut her off.

"You look like her," he continued. "Every day we've spent together, for four years, I have been reminded of what I've done, of the one I killed. That's why you have to leave: I can't bear seeing Xianglian again."

"But," Xianghua tried to argue. "But I'm not Xianglian! And we're not children anymore, Kilik! You can let the past go, start a new life together, honor her sacrifice."

"I'd rather not be reminded of my deeds," Kilik said. "That's why you have to leave."

"But I love you, Kilik!" she let out at last. Her little form was trembling as she fought to get the words out. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Kilik looked back at her for one brief moment; he saw her big, brown eyes welling up with the threat of tears. But in those eyes, he also saw something familiar. Without wasting another moment, he turned away and walked out of the room. Once the door was closed, Xianghua burst into a flood of tears.

**-{-|-o-O-o-|-}-**

Nightfall in Shambhala. Kilik found a place where he could center himself and, sitting with his ankles crossed, attempted to meditate. This did not last very long, for he soon was interrupted.

"Hey, Kilik," the Okinawan pirate said. "So, how was your trip?"

"I'm trying to meditate," Kilik replied.

"Hey, don't mind me," Maxi stated. "I'll be out of your hair in no time. Just tell me what's new."

"Soul Edge is destroyed."

"Yes, I know," Maxi nodded. "I was there, at the foot of the Tower, remember?"

"No," Kilik shook his head. "We were separated. What happened to you?"

"I finally found him," Maxi said. "He's dead."

"Did you enjoy your retribution?"

At this, the brash, over-assertive Okinawan pirate sat himself next to the monk, dangling his feet over the ledge.

"No," he shook his head, speaking in a somber tone of voice. "Might as well have left that barbarian kill him, for all it did for me."

"'Barbarian?'"

"Yeah, the Englishman," Maxi continued. "Really tall, huge, usually wears animal-skins over his head, wields a giant mace. He was with me at the end: we killed that bastard together."

"Why?"

"Well, after what happened at Ostrheinsburg, I thought twice about the whole 'working alone' thing," Maxi said.

"What happened to him after you slew the beast?"

"He went back to the New World, looking for someone called Bongo or Bangaloo, I forgot who it was."

"And you?"

A shadow passed over Maxi's face, extremely out of place here in Shambhala. It was for a moment, however, for Maxi turned his face away, as if trying to hide some terrible memory.

"I'd rather not talk about it," he said. "It's a part of my life I'd rather forget."

"I feel the same about Xianghua," Kilik said.

At this, Maxi laughed.

"What?"

"I knew it," he jested. "You and that rod."

Kilik was no longer listening: he was attempting once more to meditate, as was his purpose for coming here. Upon seeing that the conversation was going nowhere else, now that his companion was ignoring him, Maxi went off to sleep.

**-{-|-o-O-o-|-}-**

Xianghua wanted nothing more than to weep her heart out. She had given her heart to him, given her _body_ to him, and he had rejected it. She thought he was ready, that he was old enough, wise enough, to let the past die, accept her as she was and start a new future for himself. Instead, her hopes and dreams were shattered like the Dvapara-Yuga in the _han_ at Istanbul.

Her whole world was upside down, everything felt wrong. There would be no more living with Kilik after this; she didn't know if she had any family left, so where could she go after this? Mother was dead, and her father might as well be dead, since she knew not where he could be found.

As if to add to her worries, she couldn't remember the last time she had bled.

* * *

**(AN: The rest, as they say, is history.)**

**(The official story is that Kilik and Xianghua met up again years later and they had an illegitimate child. However, as _SCI__I_ through _SCIV_ occurs during the year 1591, said birth could not have been Xiba, it had to have been that of Leixia. I know that the official story says that her father isn't Kilik, but, for the sake of this fanon, it is.)  
**

**(The 'barbarian' that was mentioned was Rock. I couldn't think of making a separate story for him that was relevant to what's happening with the rest of the story, so he had honorable mention.)  
**

**(Why do I say so much about them so far? Well, their part in this tale is now over. Although Kilik's meditation will become important shortly.)  
**

**(I updated the last part, because how it ended originally just didn't fit right with me. This way its still a little ambiguous, but, then again, the cat was probably out of the bag in "A Night in the Desert". Lol, contraceptives _did_ exist back then, but I highly doubt that Xianghua or Kilik would be smuggling a hollowed-out sheep's stomach.)  
**


	9. Retribution

**(AN: New chapter!)  
**

* * *

**Retribution**

_Late Autumn, 1591_

When Setsuka finally returned to Japan, she was delighted to be back home, among a world that was familiar to her. However, it was bitter-sweet as well. The Japanese never trusted her, always treating her like an outsider: moreover, the Westerners looked at her in a peculiar manner. She was a child of the East and the West, and never fully at rest among either of them. But she didn't need their approval, there was only one thing she craved, more than life itself.

Revenge.

She followed the trail of the samurai as far as Kyoto. Now an dishonorable mercenary, he was loaning out of his skills to whoever paid him the most. His latest employer, therefore, was the _daimyo_ Hideyoshi, who had once been his enemy. She could never do that, fight along-side someone who was once her enemy. The only enemy she knew was that samurai, and she would rather die than see him be anything but dead.

Her sources told her that Heishiro Mitsurugi was meeting with one of Hideyoshi's servants at Nijo Castle. Now was the time, she told herself, to bring vengeance down upon him. She carefully planned what would be their final showdown: she wanted his death to be ignoble, one that would be fitting for the one who robbed her master from her life.

But she could not attack him straight on. The _daimyo_'s servant most likely was guarded, and if she attacked head-on, she would most likely be killed before she could reap the seeds of vengeance. Just as how the _kunoichi_ had sneaked in and out of the _han_ in Istanbul by going undercover, she would sneak into Nijo Castle, hiding in plain sight.

* * *

About midnight, the warrior was sitting cross-legged on the mat in the meeting room. His contact was still running late. He was awake, though it was still very late and every scar across his body ached as well, as if trying to drag him back into slumber. He was still in his armor, for that was how he lived and slept: fully clad.

An attendant appeared, who stood before him and bowed. Mitsurugi returned with a curt nod.

"When can I be expecting my host?" the samurai asked.

"I am terribly sorry, Mitsurugi-san," the attendant apologized. "My master is running very late. In the mean time, please accept our hospitality. Food will be set out and I will send up someone to entertain you until my master arrives."

Mitsurugi nodded.

Several more servants arrived with a wooden platter with food, and a bottle of warm _sake_. While he was half-way through the _udon_, an _oiran_ entered the room on huge, wooden platform shoes. In her hands was a _fue_, on which she played a sorrowful tune, while moving gracefully upon her high heels. Once she was done, she knelt respectfully before him, knees together and eyes towards the floor.

"It is said," the _oiran_ began. "Mitsurugi-san, that you are unmatched with a sword."

"I have not yet met my match," he replied.

"If I may be so bold, Mitsurugi-san," she continued. "I would like to see your sword."

He chuckled lightly, then took a second look at the _oiran_. She looked strange, a little out of place, and yet her voice was beautiful, her accent authentic and her poise was perfect. She seemed like nothing more than what she appeared: but Mitsurugi was no fool.

"Just a reminder," he said. "If you try to touch my blade, you'll lose your hand faster than you can apologize. I've killed stronger men for less."

The _oiran_ averted her face at those words. A soft, melodic whine of the sword-song was heard as the samurai slowly removed his _katana_ from its sheath and placed it upon his lap. Feigning surprised amazement, the _oiran_ opened her fan and covered her face with one hand. The other, meanwhile, was carefully moving toward her back.

The time had come at last.

"Mitsurugi-san," she said. "Take up your blade."

He looked at her with discerning eyes, and noted that her eyes were different, not like those of his people: more like the eyes of the Western women he had seen in his travels in Europe.

"Why?"

"Because I will not strike down an unarmed enemy!"

In one fluid motion, the iai blade was out of its parasol and slashing towards Mitsurugi's neck. Just as quickly, the samurai guarded the blow with his own sword, then delivered a powerful kick that sent her staggering backward. He slowly rose up, standing ready for the next blow.

"So it's _you_ again?" he snorted. "I've had enough of you!"

"You will pay for killing my master!" She lunged at him, sword shining in the dim lamp-light. He parried the blade, side-stepping in the process, with _katana_ held ready for her next strike.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," he replied. "But if you're going to stand in my way, you're dead!"

The swords clashed again. The _oiran_ was quick, darting about the larger man like a humming-bird, and could strike a foe at least a dozen times before they could have a chance to react. But Mitsurugi was no mere samurai: Oda Nobunaga had lauded his skill in battle, saying that not even the King of Hell could stand against him. His strength was unequaled, and every slash of Setsuka's blade met his sword's shaft as bee-stings upon a mountain-face. When he struck against her, it was like the crashing of a wave of the sea.

It was already taxing Setsuka's strength to be going toe-to-toe against Mitsurugi's mammoth strength. She needed sure footing, and though she could dance and fight in her wooden platforms, it was still throwing her timing off. She had to get rid of them. She waited until Mitsurugi struck against her, and she parried the blow in one quick wave, followed by the sound of ripping leather. Her aim was perfect, as she used his deflected blow to sever the straps of her first sandal. Just one more, and then they would be on more equal footing. Again the same routine, waiting for him to strike, then parrying the blow so that it would just slice the strap. If the blow was too shallow, it would miss her foot all-together, if it was too deep...

The sound of slicing leather was heard, and her left blood was now bleeding. She only betrayed a strained groan.

"You're getting sloppy," he said, indicating to her foot. "Swords are not toys!"

With her right foot, she ducked under the shoe and kicked it towards Mitsurugi. It struck his armor and bounced harmlessly off to the other side of the room. The next one came flying toward him, but his sword cut it in half with one swipe.

She stuck her blade back into the confines of the parasol, then waited for him to strike. She held the blow with the collapsed canopy, then opened it to its full size, throwing the samurai off for a brief moment.

"Do you think this is a dance?" he replied.

Out came the blade, and she jabbed it out from the cover of her parasol, but it only met with the samurai's blade. They both stepped back, swords raised to the level of their eyes, and charged at each other. The blades clashed, sparks flying to the ground as they ground against each other like the grind-stone of mills, each warrior trying to assert their raw power over the other.

Suddenly, Setsuka fell back, favoring her right hand, which was slowly growing red like a rose.

"You think you can defeat me with that thing?" he mocked. "Don't make me laugh!"

She attacked, with the speed of the wind, vengeance boiling in her blood as she rained blow upon blow at him, attempting to break his guard or at least wear him down. But no matter how fast she moved, how quickly she ducked, or how accurate her moves were, he was always one step ahead of her.

When she finally pulled back, sword poised for his next move, her ample bosom was heaving, pushing fiercely against her _kimono_. Never had she fought so hard that she had broken a sweat, but now she could feel exhaustion pouring over her like the sweat that was raining down her forehead.

"Getting tired?"

"I won't rest until you're dead!" she bit back.

"Come at me, then!"

She charged again, blade thirsting for the blood of her sworn enemy. But it was the same thing as before: she struck, he parried. Her blows were starting to slow down, becoming less frequent. She was fast and quick, but she could not maintain her speed indefinitely.

Suddenly, the sound of ripping fabric was heard, and she went down to one knee, a loud cry escaping her lips. Mitsurugi's blade had cut her thigh, and already blood was appearing. Her teeth gritted, fire raging in her eyes, she pushed herself back to her feet, hissing through her clenched teeth at the pain her leg felt standing and trying to walk. She would avenge her beloved _sensei_, Funamoto, or die in the attempt.

She lunged her sword at him, but her blow was wide, and he side-stepped, and her face met his armored knee. Dazed for a moment, she felt something moist and hot between her lips, but paid it little heed. Sword drawn, she charged again, but another sword dug into her arm, causing her to drop her parasol. She aimed a kick at him with her right foot, but a strong hand seized it and in a sudden moment of profound pain, her leg was twisted the wrong way and went limp.

"It's too late to beg for mercy," Mitsurugi reminded her.

"I'll kill you, if it's the last thing I..." she began, but suddenly she was kicked in the face. A fountain of hot, crimson blood exploded in her nose and came dripping down onto the floor and all on her _kimono_. Disoriented, she staggered to one side, then, sword in hand, she attacked him again. He was too fast, and evaded her charge, kicking her swiftly in her back and sending her crashing through the walls of rice paper.

"Your _sensei_ taught you how to fight?" he asked. She nodded, her mouth too full of blood to speak. "Perhaps he deserved to die, for raising such an incompetent pupil."

She charged again, hot with anger, took the bait and fell right into Mitsurugi's trap. He dodged and landed a well-aimed slice across her back. Her _kimono_ was starting to fall apart. She could barely maintain her modesty, let alone fight in such a wounded state. She staggered back to her feet, then received another blow to the head from Mitsurugi's foot. She was shaking violently, barely able to keep the sword steady in her hand.

Another kick, now to her chest, and she was doubled over, her breasts aching from the violent blow. She spat blood out of her mouth, and tried once more to get back into fighting position.

"Your _sensei_ wasn't strong enough to defeat me," Mitsurugi said. "And he passed his weak style onto you."

She could not stand him taunting her with these insults against her _sensei_, but her hand was shaking so violently, and there seemed to be two ghastly apparitions of the samurai standing on either side, yet they moved and faded in and out of each other and she knew not which one was truly her enemy.

But she would not relent. She would not be proven wrong, proven weak, so close to her victory. She could not let his memory die with her, she could not dishonor him with this defeat.

Summoning all of her remaining strength, she thrust at the samurai, and felt as her sword was knocked out of her hands with almost no effort.

All of her years of training, all of her love and devotion to her _sensei_, all of her power, was broken with as little effort as stealing from an infant. She had failed at last, in the end, to defeat her enemy. She was growing weaker, her head swimming, and she knew that one of them would be walking away from this fight.

"Don't cry," Mitsurugi said, hearing her sniffle and sob after the sword clanged to the floor.

But her tears came not from the fact that she had lost, or the certainty that she would die. Scenes, memories of her life, flashed before her eyes in the dreary, hazy limbo between life and death. She heard old Funamoto's last words to her.

_I did not teach you this art for the purpose of revenge, but to carry on my legacy as a swordsman. One who lives by the sword harbors no regret._

She realized at last that, in her blind thirst for vengeance, she had betrayed her master's last, dying wishes. He wanted her to live a free life, unbound by fear, anger, or the lust for vengeance: in return, she had ignored his wishes and went off to ease her own pain by killing the samurai. She had as good as spat on his grave by her actions. And here, now, at the very end, her pain was not gone, it had only grown a hundredfold.

"Kill me," she breathed. "Like you did my _sensei_."

The end of Mitsurugi's _katana_ touched her naked shoulder, eager to taste more of her blood. For a moment, she braced for the final, killing stroke. But it never came. Instead, the hazy image of the samurai was disappearing.

"I've proven myself stronger," he called back. "I have no need of killing you."

"Damn you!" she groaned. "Come back here and fight me! What else have I..."

Unwilling to accept defeat, or maybe having nothing left, Setsuka kept trying to force herself back onto her feet, but her twisted leg made walking nigh impossible. She stumbled about, crashing through the rice-paper walls, barely lucid. Every wound ached, even as her heart ached with the pain of her last betrayal. Life seemed not worth living anymore.

"I'm sorry, Funamoto-sensei," she cried out into the empty hall. "I've...I dishonored you!"

Her steps unsure and wary, she stumbled through the rice-wall again, feeling the cold air suddenly blowing upon her. She collapsed, unable to carry on and unwilling to try. The last thing she saw was a face looming out of the darkness, speaking words to her she could not understand. Finally, it all became dark and she knew no more.

* * *

**(AN: The 'official' story is that Setsuka won the fight, but that means that Mitsurugi would not be present in _SCV_. I thought that this ending seemed more fitting, especially since it meant she learned something in a better way than just coming upon it after getting her way.)**

**(I'm not trying to say that men are stronger than women, just that Mitsurugi is practically a one-man army. Even Siegfried couldn't survive an encounter with him without cheating [see _Siegfried: A Tale of Redemption_]. Setsuka proved her worth by lasting as long as she could against him going toe-to-toe. As far as the degree of punishment she took, that is two-fold. One, it proves that you don't wear a _kimono_ to a battle.)  
**

**(The second is partly because Setsuka is kind of a Mary-Sue. An exotic European woman living in Japan, who is immune to the corrupting influence of Soul Edge, and never seems to make mistakes. Also, many have lamented that 'strong female leads' are mostly just eye-candy who never get beat up, like 'strong male leads'. Well, Setsuka, like Beatrix Kiddo from _Kill Bill_ and Lianna Young of _Star Trek: Conflict_ can take it as hard as any male. What do you think of her now?)  
**


	10. Escape

**(AN: As far as "the void", I'm still not sure what it is. I'm thinking it looks like the Chaos realms from _SCIII_ and _SCV_.)  
**

* * *

**Escape**

Cassandra was falling forever. All signs of light were gone, with only the all-consuming chaos of the void to meet her as she fell into its gaping maw. She wondered if there even _was_ a bottom, and what would become of her if she finally found a bottom. Perhaps she would die. Maybe then all would be well, and she would be with her sister forever...

Suddenly, she fell hard upon a large platform of rock, so far from where she had been dropped that the darkness had altogether consumed it, obscuring it from her sight. She had fallen onto it front first, and the whole front of her body ached. She pushed herself up gingerly, looking about at the darkness closing in on her from all sides.

"Hello?" she asked. Her voice was still dead in the darkness, falling lame even as it escaped her lips. It seemed futile to try to speak again: here, so far from the world she knew, no one would hear her last cries for help.

As she stood in the dark solitude of the void, a faint light appeared: it was red, like the morning sun, yet soft and unassuming. It didn't give off much of a glow, but seemed to float through the darkness.

"Hello?" a voice, a human voice, spoke to her from out of nowhere.

"Where are..._who_ are you?" she asked it.

"Over here," the voice said. She looked where directed and saw, to her amazement, that it was nothing more than the speck of red light.

"What are you?" she asked again.

"I am not real," the voice answered. "What you see before you is an astral projection of my mind and soul."

"Look," she retorted. "I'm not exactly one for fairy tales and astral projection, so why don't you just tell me how I can get out of here."

There was silence for a moment, and Cassandra saw something else far in the distance that caught her eye: a tiny speck of blue light, faint and fading far off into the darkness.

"My purpose here," the red light said. "Is to close the gates of night, sealing off my world from the other world forever."

"You're gonna leave me stranded here?"

"_Malfested_ inhabit the void," the voice replied sternly. "I must keep them from entering my world!"

"What the hell are _malfested_?"

"You wouldn't understand..."

"All I understand, is that you're trying to keep me trapped here, while my nephew and niece are separated and without their mother!" Her voice broke into tears as she spoke. She then looked up at the red light.

"Are you Soul Calibur?"

"What, me? Never! That sword is a _malfestor_, manipulative and deceiving! Once the void is closed forever, I intend to destroy that sword and rid the world forever of its bile!"

"Please, whoever you are! I need your help! I have to get out of here!"

"I'm sorry, but I cannot allow that to happen," the voice said. "If the astral gates are allowed to remain open, _malfested_ will enter the world! Chaos will ensure!"

Casting angry yet wary eyes away from the red light, she heard a clear, ringing call from the blue light, like the sound of wind chimes that she had heard before. Curiosity got the best of her and she began taking wary steps into the darkness, towards the faint and fading blue light.

"No, wait!" the voice of the red light exclaimed. "Don't leave! I...I can help you!"

"You've got some nerve!" she returned, turning about and addressing the red light angrily. "First you wanna keep me in here forever, then you dare try to act like you wanna help me!"

Without warning, the red light blinked out of existence. It faded as soon as it had appeared, and its voice was, for a season, silenced.

"Good riddance," she snorted at the empty space where the red light had last appeared, then turned towards the tiny glint of blue, slowly receding into the darkness.

* * *

This island was larger than Cassandra had first thought. Taking careful steps out into the darkness that stood between her and the blue light, she saw that there seemed to always be enough space for her to walk forward: but sometimes, just barely enough. Any other time, and she would never have taken such a chance: no light to guide her feet, only a faint, dying blue glow in the distance, and darkness before her feet. But she wanted to get out, she _had_ to find Rothion and Patroklos, take care of them for her sister. Then she would begin her search for Pyrrha, and woe betide that ring-blade wielding Nordic b*tch who broke their family apart.

_No, it was Soul Calibur's fault, wasn't it__?_ she asked herself. Suddenly it dawned upon her how silly she had been to lay the blame on the Spirit Sword. Sophitia had never truly possessed the sword, so how could it have been responsible? Also, it was the girl, the servant of _Soul Edge_, not Soul Calibur, who had kidnapped baby Pyrrha.

Then a new thought came into Cassandra's mind. She had heard those words that Sophitia had said at the foot of the Tower of Remembrance, how she _had_ to fight for Soul Edge to keep her child safe. What if it had all been a plot by Soul Edge to get her to destroy Soul Calibur and increase its own power? She had been an unwitting pawn of the Evil Sword and had she been allowed to find that knight she met in Spain, she knew she would have killed him and destroyed the sword, practically throwing victory into the arms of Soul Edge.

"Boy, am I stupid!" she sighed in resignation.

**-{-|-o-O-o-|-}-**

Time did not exist in this place, not even the signs of aging that are associated with time. For Cassandra, she had only been walking this dark path towards the blue light, slowly but surely growing brighter as she approached it, for no longer than three hours.

At last, she came to a place where she found the island path disappeared into the void. The blue light, she saw, was streaming from a sea of tiny, watery lines of blue light that floated around this place like Copernicus' planets around the sun.

"Cassandra," a voice spoke from out of the darkness. It was not the low, guttural growl of Necrid, or the ominous roar of the Beast, or even the voice that came from the red light. It was another voice, clear and beautiful, sounding so familiar that a tear fell down Cassandra's cheek.

"Sis?" she asked. "Wha...How is this possible?"

"For many years," the voice said. "Shards of Soul Edge remained in me after my first battle with the Evil Sword."

"Why are you here?"

"I am not really here," it replied. "As the Evil Sword was broken, it attempted one last strike against the world of the living, like what it did four years ago. Only instead of the Evil Seed, it opened a hole into this place, where all the souls of those vanquished by Soul Edge are trapped forever."

"No, it can't be!"

"The soul of the one you call Sophitia is asleep, Cassandra. All that I am is what was stolen from her by the shards of Soul Edge, taken up into the void and doomed to remain here, until I am reunited with the sword."

Cassandra's face was twisted in confusion once more.

"The memories of Sophitia reside within me," the lights said. "Although I came from the Evil Sword, I am not a threat to you. Sophitia's memories make certain of that."

"Uh, okay," Cassandra replied, still not entirely sure what to make of this.

"The knowledge of your presence caused me to seek you out," the lights said. "There is a way out, but you must go now."

"Wait," Cassandra interjected. "If you're part of Soul Edge, how can I trust you? What if you just want to get out and cause more harm in my world?"

"Concerning your first question, you have no other alternative," the voice began. "The Terror of the Night is out there, hiding in the darkness, seeking you out. If he finds you, you will never escape the void: you will be as good as dead. As for your second question, I am only the essence of the shards of Soul Edge that were once in Sophitia's body. Most of me was purged by the _kunoichi_, greatly weakening my power in your world. Even so, the Evil Sword is dormant: I too would have no power in your world."

"I don't know," Cassandra replied. "I still think something bad's going to happen if I follow you."

"If you didn't," the voice said. "It would only end in your death. The only thing important is the survival of Sophitia's children."

"Wait, you're just...essence! Why do you care what happens to my sister's children?"

"You forget, I possess all of Sophitia's memories, including those of Patroklos and Pyrrha. You must return to the other world and ensure their survival."

Cassandra was wracked with doubt and worry. She knew that her nephew and niece were in danger, but could she trust this "speck of light", especially when it said it was part of Soul Edge? Of course, the only other alternative would be to stay on the run from the Beast, the "Terror of the Night" as the light called it, and wait for the inevitable end when she would grow too weary to keep running. Either choice was fraught with doubt and the possibility of misadventure, and neither of them promised a good outcome in the end.

"Lead on." she said at last.

The light responded by suddenly vanishing, then appearing as a faint blue dot far out in the void. It rapidly grew larger and brighter, until it appeared as a shimmering gateway, but Cassandra could only see light at the far side.

"Leave this place at once," the voice said. "The gates of night cannot stay open indefinite..."

"No!" The red light suddenly appeared again. Before Cassandra could react, the red light came before the entrance of the gateway, and it started to shrink, closing in on itself.

"You have been deceived!" the red light shouted. "This..._thing_ is using you to let the _malfested_ into my world!"

"He is misguided in his goals," the blue light calmly said. "Even if you destroy both swords, what will it matter, if all the world is ravaged by their power?"

"This isn't about the whole world!" the red light returned. "It's just one family. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few!"

"Hey! That's _my_ family you're sacrificing!" Cassandra shouted at the red light.

"Trust me, this is the right choice, for all of us," the red light replied.

Suddenly, a deafening roar was heard. Cassandra felt once again the chill of death and despair creeping over her. The Beast was coming, and there was no more escape. She didn't know how she would survive this; that didn't seem likely.

Meanwhile, the gate started collapsing even faster than before. The red light vanished, and the blue light was suddenly pulled away into the gathering darkness, a wail of desperation in Sophitia's voice echoing after it.

Cassandra couldn't speak, for now all hope was gone. The gates of night were sealed, the red light had done its duty. Now there would be no escape for Cassandra Alexandros from the depths of the void. She drew her sword, for whatever good that would do, and prepared to make her last stand.

Without warning, the large, green figure, clad in its torn robes, appeared from out of the darkness, running fast to where she stood.

"You!" she exclaimed.

_Quickly__!_ Necrid growled. _I will keep it open for you long enough to escape, but you must go now_.

Slowly the Beast's form began to materialize from out of the darkness. It was monstrous, larger than anything she had ever seen. A pair of wings, fifty feet long from tip to tip if spread apart, trailed behind it in a blaze of fire. Upon its monstrous body was armor that looked like bone, covered with horns and spiked protrusions. Its face was clad in a helmet of bone, with one single horn pointing outward. Two burning yellow eyes glared at her from the depths of the Beast's skull.

At the sight of the Terror of the Night, Cassandra was paralyzed all over. Here was a thing straight out of some nightmare, and it was coming toward her, with the intent to destroy her. There was no escape, for she was just a little human, still very young, and her sword and shield looked like toys before the giant blade the Beast carried, covered with teeth.

_Now! Leave this place! Save your family! I hope to never see you here again!_

Cassandra turned around and saw the green creature Necrid was bowing down to his knees, holding the fabric of the void back, keeping the gates of night from sealing. It seemed too much, even for this great creature, to handle, for it was crushing him beneath its sheer weight and power.

_Hephaestus_, she prayed. _If you're really there, give me strength!_

She ran toward the collapsing exit, sliding beneath Necrid's legs and was gone from the depths of the void.

**-{-|-o-O-o-|-}-**

When Cassandra woke up again, she found herself in a wilderness of snow and ice, and she was freezing. This was not the valley beneath the Tower, this was not Ostrheinsburg, it wasn't even Mount Olympus. She was somewhere all-together alien to her. In the sky, however, there hanged the sun, forcing its way through the dark clouds of snow. Cassandra breathed the clean air once more and knew in her heart that it had worked. She was back among the world of the living.

She set her eyes and heart southward. Her journey had just begun.

* * *

**(AN: A lot of strange stuff happened, but all you need to know is that Cassandra is alive and still around. I would like to believe so, because I just started getting to like her in _SCIII_, then she's gone in _SCV_. Exactly where and when she is, I don't know.)**

**(If you recall, Kilik was meditating and said those exact same words when Xianghua interrupted him, and his profile in _SCV_ said that he spent time closing the 'astral gates'. That was what he was doing while meditating.)  
**


	11. Remembrance

**(AN: Okay, the story has reached its climax: how do we end it? There is one character who I've made appear in pretty much everyone's story at least once, but having the last chapter devoted only to that character...I don't know how I could do it.)  
**

**(If you noticed [and you probably didn't], Yoshimitsu's fate has not been told, though you obviously know it by now. That I save for _Yoshimitsu: Angel of Vengeance_.)  
**

* * *

**Remembrance**

Setsuka's eyes opened upon a roof in a simple, wooden house. Any fears that this might be _Yomi_ were dispersed when she saw pale white spears of light shining through a shuttered window. The face from out of the darkness she now saw in the light of day, gleaming with two, beautiful dark brown eyes.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"I can't tell you that," the woman replied. "You're alive and safe, that's all that should matter."

"I would like to know what happened to me," Setsuka began, trying to sit up when her body exploded with pain.

"Just remain still," the woman said. "Your wounds haven't had time to heal."

"What happened to me?"

"You were half-dead when I found you," the woman replied. "Bloodied and broken like I've never seen before, and I've seen the worst."

"You have, huh?" Setsuka asked. She leaned back onto the pillow, turning her head to look at her hostess. She looked about the same height as she, though she noted that her kimono bulged a little more than usual at the bust.

"Your voice is familiar," she said. "Have I seen you somewhere before?"

"I'm sure you've met many people before," the woman said. "I've been told I remind people of other people. Maybe that's it."

Setsuka didn't like that answer, but it was all she had at this moment, and she didn't have any other way of getting...

"My sword! My parasol!" she exclaimed. "What happened to...?"

"They are safe," the woman said. "I brought them back after you were picked up."

"_Arigato-gosaimasu,_" Setsuka nodded.

"Think nothing of it," the other woman said. She then stepped out, saying she was getting water, and told Setsuka to rest.

_Here I am_, she thought. _Alive, if only barely._ Yet she was alive, and the knowledge of everything she had done and learned was still in her mind, albeit just barely there. She could still find Mitsurugi and...

No, she would not be seeking vengeance. The memory of her _sensei_'s last words was still fresh in her mind, as well as how she had spent practically a year ignoring his last wishes. Hers would no longer be a life of vengeance, she knew that now. Once she was strong enough to leave this place, she would train others in the art of the sword as her master had taught her, and keep his legacy alive this way, living without regrets.

* * *

Well, the patient was doing fine. Awake, it seemed, and talkative. She couldn't let her know too much. The Fu-ma were nothing if not secretive. She had almost let her identity slip through, but thankfully, her face was turned away. The _oiran_ would recover, and then be released under cover of darkness, with blind-fold if necessary, to keep the location of this refuge a secret.

It was indeed a sorry sight, coming upon the _oiran_ half-dead at Nijo Castle. It reminded her of a similar incident seven years ago with her Greek friend. She too had almost died, but had been saved at the last minute, only to die, as she discovered, mere moments after the destruction of Soul Edge. Did it all mean nothing?

No, she would see to it that this one would survive. She was already recovering, she would make it. Taki would make sure she did not fail her task this time.

**-{-|-o-O-o-|-}-**

Somewhere in the great sea, a ship brings three friends back to their homeland. An uncertain future awaits them, but when they survive, they shall be hailed as heroes, and one shall never doubt his strength again.

A young priestess returns home after many long months of travel across the world. A smile is upon her face as the wind blows about her: all is well.

A monk of the Ling-Sheng Su is meditating in Shambhala, projecting his soul back into the void, closing the gates of night and absorbing the memories of countless warriors before him.

A young woman faces an uncertainty, just as her mother predicted. In her womb is growing the next warrior to possess the purifying Kali-Yuga staff. She has yet more to give to this world, though her sword shall no longer be wielded by her.

A father comes home to his child in the west, never to leave his side again.

Years go by, and the _oiran_ has put all vengeance aside. Her place in history shall always be remembered as the _sensei_ of the one who destroyed the Spirit Sword and set the world plunging into chaos. Yet she trained him just as her master trained her, and she told him all that he told her, and it was _his_ choice in the end: she has no regrets.

In a forest, filled with roses and lilies, a French girl awakes from years of slumber on a holy day of the Roman goddess. Her dark angel will continue to search for her, while she finds herself thrown into sudden importance in the war that is to come.

The female _ninja_ has found meaning for her life, other than simply as an assassin, a destroyer of evil. Now she and her child-hood friend raise one possessed by the old gods, who is destined to play a role in what is to come. Her eyes, however, are constantly to the west, in search of her own, lost _sensei_...

In the far, cold north, a young woman slowly makes her way south, to find those she loves. Whatever the cost, she will not rest until she has found them and saved them from the evil that has befallen them.

The enigma, who has watched all of these events and interfered when it suited him best, continues to watch from the shadows. Whatever befall the world, the passage of time is the only constant. One golden eye stares into the future, yearning to see it come to life. He will return into the shadows of history once more, awaiting the right moment to return...

**THE END**

* * *

**(AN: This one does not end with "The legend will never die", as my last _Soul Calibur_ fan-fic ended. Obviously, the legend of Soul Calibur _did_ die by the time of _SCV_.)**

**(But enough of that. Here is what [I feel] happens to those of our characters who were forgotten/left out of _SCV_. As you can see, I follow the Viola-is-Amy theory, as well as state that Cassandra isn't dead, and that Zasalamel, the 'enigma', is likely to return.)  
**

**(I'm glad you enjoyed this story, and I want to thank all of you for the lovely reviews. They helped me majorly and gave me inspiration to continue. Honorable mention goes out to _ThalieXVII_, who made sure my French was proper [I wasn't annoyed by your corrections at all :)]. I definitely have more plans for _Soul Calibur_ fan-fics, so see you next time.)  
**


End file.
